


and in silence he burns

by M493



Category: Almost Human
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:05:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M493/pseuds/M493
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For someone missing both of his legs, Dorian sure weighs a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and in silence he burns

**Author's Note:**

> Written for slashersivi @ tumblr for their prompt:  
> "John carrying Dorian who has lost *his* legs?"

Dorian _is_ heavy.

This is a thing John has always assumed is fact and nothing makes that fact any more real than having the solid weight of Dorian gathered in his arms. John grunts as he attempts to balance Dorian's weight, this only makes Dorian tighten his arms around John's shoulders in response.

"John," Dorian says, voice quiet and crackling with static. John shushes him, hates that he can't stand hearing Dorian like this; like he will not make it. Dorian only laughs in response, but even that comes out mangled and painful to hear.

For someone missing both of his legs, Dorian sure weighs a lot.

Eventually, they make it back to their car and John leans Dorian against the side of it and attempts to unlock the door. A task not made simple by Dorian distractingly humming right next to John's ear. "Help me, damnit," John hisses, clearly exasperated when the car door refuses to open after the fourth attempt.

"You could try asking nicely," Dorian says, sniffing a little but John knows better than to fall for it. He can feel the curve of Dorian's smile pressed against his neck. John can feel the cold synthetic fluid, which John privately equates to blood, running down his clothes and he holds unto Dorian just a little tighter. Miraculously, Dorian's face lights up and the car door clicks open.

"Thank you so much, Dorian, you're a great friend," Dorian says, using John's voice. If John wasn't busy artfully ignoring Dorian, John would have grumbled. Loudly. "You're welcome, my friend," Dorian continues inanely, in his voice, which crackles toward the end. John shuts the door on Dorian when he opens his mouth to possibly comment on how wet John's shirt is.

Two days later, and Dorian's back on his feet- literally- and in John's hair- figuratively. But, John thinks, this _is_ Dorian and getting into John's hair is most likely a possibility with him. At this moment, though, it's Rudy's hair Dorian is in, also figuratively.

"So, you're, uh," John starts, making a face as he struggles for a word. He clenches his fist and finally says, "Okay?" He immediately wants to hit his face against the wall. Dorian looks at him from over Rudy's shoulder and studies him until John fidgets and glares at the back of Rudy's head in lieu of looking away.

Dorian, infuriatingly, smiles and teases John for being concerned. But John can see it in the private way Dorian's eyes crinkle at the edges, the way he nods slowly- sympathetically- even if his actions seem completely disconnected from his words.

Dorian does not blame John for what happened.

John wishes he did.

The memory of Dorian _bleeding_ blue follows John far into his nightmares. He wakes up, more often than not, choking on Dorian's name, hand grasping for his legs and only finding one.

It all comes to a head one late night after a patrol. John just stops walking as soon as he and Dorian are but a few feet from the precinct doors. The parking lot is a mix of creepy and deserted and John tries very hard not to fidget.

"John?" Dorian asks, coming to stop directly behind John, almost colliding with him.

John doesn't say anything at all, the ' _sorry_ ' gets caught in his throat, wriggles up to press against his teeth but does not quite make it any further. John swallows.

Dorian lets out a puff of air and John can imagine the wheels turning in Dorian's head, even hears them click into place when Dorian makes a sort of 'oh' sound, as if he understands. God, John wishes he does because he can't quite understand it himself.

"It's okay, John," Dorian says, soft and soothing and not at all what John deserves.  John closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I forgive you," Dorian whispers. He keeps repeating those words over and over as he fits himself against John's back and hugs him, refusing to let go until John finally hangs his head low and, almost imperceptibly, nods.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to drop prompts in my [Ask Box](http://m4-93.tumblr.com/ask). Or just chat. I like chatting.


End file.
